


I Watched As You Began To Metamorphosize

by Rumiflan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Comedy, Social Anxiety, Training, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumiflan/pseuds/Rumiflan
Summary: A boy from Greenfield High is obsessed with studies. Who will help him make friends?





	I Watched As You Began To Metamorphosize

Stanley McCollum, or Stan for short, wasn't a particularly popular kid in his class. It had been a year and a half since he entered high school, and he had yet to make even a single friend. All thanks to him putting all of his time and effort into studying. Listening to teachers and reading outdated textbooks tended to absorb him so much that by the time he was done with Arthur Spencer's _World War II_ or Kira Paysinger's _Biology and Humanity_ , he had literally no strength left to communicate with his peers in a decent way.  
  
Most of them knew about his unhealthy obsession with studying, and thus were trying to avoid him. He couldn't understand why. How come they didn't enjoy school as much as he did? After all, isn't studying important for our future? What's so great about iphones, pop music and gossiping, anyway?  
  
So yes, the education system assumed a pretty firm hold of him. He was reading on the streets, in parks, in shops, at home, everywhere. And if that wasn't enough, he'd often set an audiolecture before heading to bed. Last night he had Jamie Cronenberg's _Romanticism._  
  
That day Miss Marchi asked him to visit her after school for a private conversation. No, it's not like she was trying to seduce him or anything. The issue was his essay. The students were asked to write on what they planned to do after graduation. Many of them aspired to become psychologists, writers, translators, doctors, nurses, gardeners, anyone not connected to school.  
  
Now, the essay required you to describe how you'd reach your goal and what you'd do after finally getting a job. Stan did an incredible job getting the first part done. The second one, on the other hand...  
  
* * *  
  
"Erm... what?" Stan either missed what she said or had a hard time digesting it.  
  
They were sitting in her living room. Letting the light of sunset in, a huge window behind Miss Marchi's fat green armchair made her look kinda scary. The boy was covered by the woman's shadow.  
  
"Exactly what I said. You want to become a teacher, and that's good. However, you fail to realize that a good teacher needs to be able to understand people. He must know how to deal with them, how to build a relationship with his class, many other things," Miss Marchi sighed. "I'm sorry, but having massive subject knowledge doesn't make a good teacher".  
  
The boy became stunned. All those years of enthusiastically absorbing textbooks suddenly started to feel like a huge waste. His arms and legs began to shake, warm clouds of worry gathered inside his chest, as well as his head. The boy felt a horrible urge to smash it against the wall. He got off his chair, threw his hands in the air, and let out a scream of sheer terror.  
  
"Now, now, it's never too late to learn," his outburst didn't seem to faze her. "Just start focusing on your studies a little lesser than usual. Try talking to people around you".  
  
Stan grabbed his head. Ring and middle fingers pulled his eyelids down and up respectively, making his face look even more horrified. "I can't! If I stop dedicating my time to reading, my marks are gonna drop so much I get expelled!"  
  
"Nobody said you should stop reading. Just try literature other than textbooks. Take a look at Molly Mosier. She's got every Stephen King's book she could get her hands on, and still the best student our school has ever had".  
  
Silence. Stan started to regain his composure. He released his head, and started to breathe deeply. Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four...  
  
"Or Sam Oxley. He's our personal math genius, despite his silly, often times weird interest in kids' shows".  
  
Three... two... one... alright.  
  
"You alright over there?"  
  
"Yeah... kinda..." Stan whispered. Miss Marchi let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Look: all I want you to do is... well... get a goddamn life. I don't know how to put it, should I say, less bluntly".  
  
"Oh god... oh god... oh my god, what have I done with my youth...?" the boy entered a phase of self-deprecation.  
  
"Well, like I said, it's never too late to learn".  
  
"But how...?"  
  
"Hm... I think I know the right person".  
  
* * *  
  
"I am Melvin Wilson, your senior drill instructor! Remember two things! First, when I speak to you, you listen, and you listen WELL! Second, once I'm done with you, you're either the most popular kid in class or a whining nobody! Got that straight?" Melvin was the scariest fat boy Stan has ever seen in his entire life. Those five sentences that came out of his mouth instantly gave the poor guy idea what he was in for.  
  
"Sir, yes, sir!" He tried to sound brave, but that didn't impress his instructor.  
  
"Alright, lesson number one! You see this girl over there?" Melvin pointed at a girl sitting on a bench located next to a soccer field. "I am gonna have a conversation with her! Watch me!"  
  
Stan nodded, and the big boy proceeded to walk towards her. Upon getting close to the bench, he sat on it with an expression which made him look like Arnold Schwarzenegger.  
  
"Nice weather today, isn't it?" he sounded surprisingly calm. For a moment Stan thought he was gonna shout at the top of his lungs, but he didn't.  
  
"Yeah, pretty nice. Today's weather forecast didn't promise any rain, and thank god for that," the girl turned her vision towards her fellow bench-sitter.  
  
"Agreed. I hate rain. Especially on a windy day! No matter how much clothing you put on yourself, cold still slows you down like a goddamn anesthetic!" Melvin laughed.  
  
"Oh yeah!" the girl's face became serious. "Wind and rain are a dangerous duo, that's for sure! Get exposed to them long enough, and a week of coughing and sneezing is guaranteed!"  
  
"My mother found that out firsthand! One day when she was going to shop, a heavy rainstorm caught her off guard! She was soaking wet! You'd think sure, just find a safe warm place, and you're good, but no, the wind just had to happen! Fortunately cops found her laying on a sidewalk, but she looked horrible! Moms couldn't leave the house for days!"  
  
"You have my sympathy," her voice became quieter.  
  
"It's alright. She's a strong woman. A survivor, even," Melvin changed his tone as well. "Last summer she got stranded on an island. Came back alive after no less than three months of meat, water and wild berries".  
  
"Wow, that's... cool, I guess," the girl closed her eyes a bit.  
  
"Say, do you like reading?" the boy decided to change to subject.  
  
"Not really. I'm more of a moviegoer," she was about to say something else, but her phone started to ring. "Oh crap! Sorry, but I better get going! If I don't get to the restaurant as soon as possible, I'm gonna be fired! Part-time job! Parents forced me!"  
  
"It's nothing. I had fun talking to you, erm..." Melvin frowned.  
  
"Nancy! Nancy Haberkorn!"  
  
"Melvin Wilson," the boy replied.  
  
"Talk to you later, Melvin!" Nancy waved her hand and started to run faster. Soon she left his sight completely.  
  
* * *  
  
"Did you see that?" Melvin gave Stan a threatening look.  
  
"Y-yeah... I mean, sir, yes, sir!" his attempt to sound serious failed. Again.  
  
"Okay... now it's your turn," another threatening look. "Try your luck with... this girl!"  
  
He pointed at a girl reading a book under a huge tree.  
  
"But what should I say to her? I don't know a thing about her preferences!"  
  
"Neither did I know a thing about Nancy, and yet we had a good conversation! Would've talked longer if it hadn't been for her job!"  
  
"Fine, fine, I'll go," Stan went towards the tree the girl was reading under. He felt awkward, but watching Melvin gave him a bit of self-confidence.  
  
The girl was reading Ryu Murakami's _Audition_. She seemed fully absorbed by the book, as she didn't notice the boy approaching her. Neither did she pay attention to him taking a seat nearby.  
  
Stan looked nervous. "Erm... Good day..."  
  
No reaction from her.  
  
"Good day!" he tried again, his forehead started to sweat. This time she heard him. The girl put _Audition_ aside.  
  
"Yeah...?" her eyes were half-closed. She looked annoyed.  
  
"Nice weather today... huh?" Stan recalled what Melvin did while talking to Nancy.  
  
"Eh, nothin' special. Sun's warm, no clouds, no wind... I don't give a shit," the girl rolled her eyes.  
  
 _Oh no... this isn't like with Melvin and Nancy... What should I do...? What should I do...?_ the boy started panicking.  
  
"Well?" she raised her voice at him.  
  
"D-do you enjoy survival television series?"  
  
"Not really... Those people can eat corpses and hit stones to produce fire for all I care".  
  
"Neither do I, actually. I mean, the civilization gave us technology... it improves our lives... and stuff..."  
  
"Look: if you ain't got nothin' to say, get lost. I've reached the part where Aoyama drank Asami's sleep potion. Damn, that scene looked so dope in the movie. I'd love to see how the original book handled Asami's torture, so you better not be wastin' my time".  
  
"Fine, I got it... sorry for bothering you... let's talk some other time, I guess..." Stan started to walk away, his eyes staring at the ground. The girl covered her face with the palm of her right hand, groaning in annoyance.  
  
* * *  
  
There was a vein twitching in Melvin's head. Stan's performance was beyond terrible, and the drill instructor wasn't gonna let that slide.  
  
"Son, you're an embarrassment," he said, withholding his anger.  
  
"I'm so—I mean, sir, I am, sir..." this time Stan corrected himself quicker than before.  
  
"As a punishment, you have to do 50 pushups," Melvin turned around, "while these people are talking about things you may or may not care about, but they do. I did my best to convince them to help me, so you better pay attention! Now get to it!"  
  
Stan was close to crying. "Sir, I can't do it, sir..."  
  
"What? Are you gonna give up after the first failure? Not on my watch!" the drill instructor took a seat at a mini-chair he had in his backpack. He gave Stan a threatening look, and the boy started to pushup.  
  
* * *  
  
 _5... 6... 7..._  
  
"I heard Patrick Willingham was going to win this election".  
  
"He's the boss. I'm sure he'll rebuild the country. All Nicholson did was bringing it to ruin".  
  
 _18... 19... 20..._  
  
"What's your favorite novel?"  
  
" _When I'm Gone_ by Emily Bleeker".  
  
" _IT_ by Stephen King".  
  
" _Annie on My Mind_ by Nancy Garden".  
  
 _34... 35... 36... oh god, my arms..._  
  
"Remember my friend Jad?"  
  
"Of course I do, silly. Why?"  
  
"She got her hands on NONA's latest disc! I'm so jealous!"  
  
 _48... 49... 50... I'm gonna collapse..._  
  
* * *  
  
Melvin would force Stan to do that every time he screwed up, and oh boy, did he have a hard time. One of the boys Stan attempted to talk to was turned off by him mentioning Patrick Willingham becoming a president. The second one called him a jerk for not taking his personal trauma seriously. The third shouted at him for getting carried away while talking about African animals, as that boy didn't give a damn about the continent's wilderness.  
  
* * *  
  
"Remember: when a person's eyes are half-closed, it's a good sign they begin to lose interest," Melvin pointed at a drawing of a bored person's face. "It can also mean they didn't get enough sleep, but that's rare".  
  
"Sir, yes, sir!" Stan's voice hardened over the last few days.  
  
"Also, remember to change the subject once you feel your conversation partner is getting bored".  
  
"Sir, yes, sir!"  
  
* * *  
  
After several days of excessive training, Stan met her again...  
  
"Oh look, you again," it was the girl that read Ryu Murakami's _Audition_.  
  
"Yes, it is indeed me..." the boy was still afraid of her, but he decided to man up this time. "Sorry if I annoyed you back then".  
  
"So, got anythin' to say?"  
  
"A couple of days ago I decided to read _Audition_ , and honestly, it scared the hell out of me," Stan smiled faintly, making the girl chuckle.  
  
"Oh yeah? Weak shit".  
  
"I guess... On a side note, I went through David Cronenberg's filmography. Watched every single movie".  
  
"What was your favorite?"  
  
"Scanners".  
  
"Good taste. I liked that movie too," the girl smiled.  
  
"Really? How come?"  
  
"The head explosion scene, and the way the movie dealt with typical main protagonist cliches. I thought what happened to Cameron Vale was what would really happen to his type of character in the movie's type of situation".  
  
"Honestly, as cliche as it is, I like to watch heroes succeed. Agree to disagree, I guess".  
  
"Eh, yeah..." the girl rolled her eyes.  
  
"What say I come to your place? I'd like to read other novel by Ryu Murakami with you".  
  
"I guess you can, but... moms doesn't like when I bring strangers," she yawned.  
  
"The name's Stanley McCollum, or Stan for short".  
  
"Carolyn Calvello," her lips formed a wide smile.  
  
"Well, that takes care of the "stangers" thing!" Stan did the same thing. "Let's go, Carolyn".  
  
"Sure, Stan. What a funny name".  
  
"Yeah, I think so too. It's like the name of one of the main characters of South Park. Never watched that show, but know about it. Not sure why".  
  
"Same here".  
  
* * *  
  
Melvin and Stanley looked into each other's eyes. Their faces were filled with pride. Wilson considered his job done, while McCollum was glad he had an honor of being trained by someone like that tough guy standing before him.  
  
"Congratulations, private McCollum! From now on, you are no longer a loser. Now you are a well-armed conversation-holder. Be proud!" a tear appeared in Melvin's right eye.  
  
"Sir, I'm endlessly proud of being educated by none other than the amazing senior drill instructor Wilson, sir!" Stan saluted.  
  
"Glad to hear that! However, we're not done yet," Wilson closed his eyes.  
  
"Sir, really, sir?"  
  
"Yes. It's time for your final exam. This one should be easy, given everything you've learned. Tomorrow you're going to walk inside the school building, and don't you leave it until you make friends with your entire class! Got it?"  
  
"Sir, yes, sir," Stan's voice fell.  
  
"What's wrong, private McCollum?"  
  
"Sir, I'm not sure I'm ready for this, sir".  
  
Melvin walked up to him. "Private McCollum?"  
  
"Sir, yes, sir!"  
  
"Listen up, Stan," Wilson lowered his tone. "I made you talk to people you didn't know before. I made you do 50 pushups each time you screwed up. I made you listen to what happens around you. We've been through a lot, so don't bullshit me. Understood?"  
  
"Sir, yes, sir".  
  
"Good. Tomorrow I expect you to walk into the building, and leave it with all sorts of boys and girls swooning all over you. Dismissed".  
  
* * *  
  
That night Stanley had a hard time falling asleep.  
  
 _What am I going to do? On one hand, I've learned a lot, but on the other hand, my classmates have no idea I've changed! They still think I'm that boring nerd! I'm never going to muster enough courage to speak to them! I'm never—  
  
_ Miss Marchi's voice entered his head. _It's never too late to learn, McCollum. It's never too late._  
  
Stan's eyes widened, and he hit himself. _I'm... going to do it... I'm going to do it...! I'm going to do it!  
  
* * *   
  
_That was it. The moment of truth had come. Lunch time. Perfect time to talk to as many people as possible before the next lesson. Stan knew that if he didn't do anything, he wouldn't achieve anything, and that would render all of Melvin's training pointless.  
  
He walked up to Molly Mosier. "Hi, Mosier".  
  
Everyone in the cafeteria turned their vision to them, and held their breath.  
  
"What do you want, McCollum?" she looked hostile.  
  
"I'd love to know who you plan to vote for. Personally, I think Willingham will make for a much better president than Nicholson".  
  
Molly's eyebrows jumped.  
  
"I read what happened during Nicholson's term. Thanks to that bastard we lost Black War, as well as a huge chunk of southern land. And now our enemies are using it to cultivate cabbage! And the worst thing is, they're not even gonna sell it! The demand is not high enough! Honestly, it's just a horrible waste of resources".  
  
Silence.  
  
"So if you're thinking of voting for Nicholson, you obviously want the country to die," Stan frowned.  
  
"Actually... I was gonna vote for Willingham..." Molly was stunned.  
  
"Good. Oh, on a side note, what's your favorite Stephen King's novel? I enjoyed _Doctor Sleep_ ".  
  
"I liked... The Stand..." Mosier had a hard time digesting what happened between her and McCollum.  
  
"That novel about superflu? Yeah, that was a good one too," Stan smiled.  
  
"What's the meaning of this, McCollum?" the girl looked confused. Her face became normal again, but hands were shaking.  
  
"Nothing special. I just became a victim of... what was it again? Social integration? I got tired of doing nothing but studying, so I went and read on what others liked, and even found a couple of personal favorites," his smile turned into a confident smirk. He took a look around himself. "Well? What are you waiting for?"  
  
* * *  
  
And from that day onward, Stanley McCollum became the most popular kid in his class. There wasn't a single day without him having a political or literary conversation with at least two of his classmates. And when he shared his dream of becoming a teacher, many promised to trust him with their kids. Once he invited the entire class to his house. They spent seven hours talking about Nicholson, their tastes in food, and hobbies. Sam Oxley even brought up his personal issues. What were they again? Eh, doesn't matter, as Stan was quick to make him feel better. Everyone did their best, but it was McCollum that dealt the finishing blow.  
  
As for Melvin Wilson, he was just watching him. Watching and admiring.  
  
 ** _THE END_**


End file.
